


another year older

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Santana's birthday. Rachel buys her new toys to play with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	another year older

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be one long, long fic of lots of porn, but I decided to publish this now and then just add new parts to it as and when. So yes, I will be continuing. But no, I don't know when/how often.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

Santana puts her book down on the arm of the sofa and peers over at her girlfriend like she is crazy. “Huh? It’s still three months away, Rach. I don’t have a clue.”

“But I need to plan. And what if you want something really difficult to get hold of and I have to order it. Or what if I order something and it doesn’t arrive. Anything could happen, Santana! I need the proper time to prepare!”

“Baby,” Santana says, reaching for Rachel’s hand and pulling the girl into her lap. “Stop worrying so much about everything.” She presses a quick kiss to Rachel’s lips and then smiles. “The only thing I care about is spending the day with you.”

Rachel eyes go soft and she shuffles closer to Santana, pulling her into a hug. “I love when you get all sappy on me,” she says.

“And orgasms. I want orgasms.”

Rachel laughs, nuzzling her face into Santana’s neck. “I think that can be arranged.”

~

Three months gives Rachel _a lot_ of time to plan. By the time the morning of Santana’s birthday arrives, she’s done some research, made some purchases, and is fairly confident she’s going to give Santana exactly what she wants.

It’s not like they don’t already have a pretty active sex life, because they do, but Rachel knows there are some things they both want to try out, they just haven’t made that leap from talking to doing. So. Today seems like the perfect day to start.

She gets up when her alarm goes off at five o’clock. As usual, Santana just mumbles and wraps herself tighter in the sheets when Rachel lets the cold air into their bed. She skips her morning workout routine, because she’s pretty sure she’s going to be burning off enough calories shortly to not need it, and goes straight to their small kitchen. When she’s eaten her breakfast — because it doesn’t matter how excited she is to go back into their bedroom, breakfast is important and she’s going to need her strength — she makes a fresh coffee for Santana and makes her way back through their apartment.

Rachel puts Santana’s coffee down on her side table, then heads over to her closet, reaching into the back for the box she’s hidden there.

She pulls it out and heads back over to the bed. Santana seems to be stirring a little, probably from the smell of coffee, Rachel thinks, so she just places the box on her bedside table and settles back on the cushions to wait.

A couple of minutes later, Santana’s eyes flutter open and she focuses slowly on Rachel.

“Morning,” Rachel says. “Happy Birthday!”

Santana smiles tiredly, then her eyes flick over to the box and her eyebrows raise in question. “For me?” She asks, then her face lights up like a ten-year old on christmas morning when Rachel nods and passes it over the bed into Santana’s waiting hands.

Santana rips open the wrapping and shoots a slightly confused look at Rachel when she uncovers the plain cardboard box underneath. Rachel watches with anticipation and a small amount of trepidation. She can feel her heart speeding up as Santana separates the flaps.

The look Santana shoots her seconds later is hard to interpret, as is the, “Fuck, Rach,” that she almost whispers.

Rachel wrings her hands together as she meets Santana’s gaze. “We don’t have to use them all,” she says nervously. “Or anything you’re uncomfortable with, just say... I mean, we’ve talked about it and—I just thought...”

“Rachel, stop!” Santana says, half laughing and grabbing for Rachel’s hands to still them. “I wasn’t—God. The thought of you—it turned me on, okay? Not anything bad.”

“Really?”

Santana nods, biting her lip as she guides Rachel to sit astride her. “Feel.”

Rachel lets Santana drag their joined hands underneath the waistband of her sleeping shorts. “Oh. Wow. You really—just from the thought?”

“Yeah,” Santana says, pulling her hand free, and leaning back on the bed, bracing herself with both arms. Her breath catches as Rachel slides fingers against her clit. “ Fuck, Rach. Don’t stop.”

Rachel shakes her head, following Santana down to press their mouths together.  Her fingers slip through Santana’s gathered wetness, teasing at her entrance before pulling back up to circle her clit. Santana shivers and groans, hips twitching underneath Rachel’s weight as they try to buck up into her touch.

Rachel drags her tongue along Santana’s jaw, then up, sucking on her earlobe before biting down, tugging the lobe between her teeth. Santana stutters out a breath, reaching up with one hand to grip at Rachel’s arm. 

“I’m going to make you come so hard, Santana,” Rachel says, then pushes two fingers into Santana, twisting and scissoring them. Santana cries out, her fingers grip Rachel’s arm tighter, pressing red marks into the skin, and Rachel groans, because the feeling of being surround by Santana, all wet heat and clenching muscles, is something that never gets old. “God, baby. So. Hard.” She thrusts once more then pulls out, eye gleaming wickedly as Santana lets out frustrated whine. “But not just yet.” 

Jumping up from Santana’s lap, Rachel moves to the bottom of the bed, grinning innocently as she reaches into the still half-wrapped box. Santana watches her every movement, and Rachel’s pleased to realise she’s shifting uncomfortably, thighs squeezing together as she no doubt battles with her arousal.

“So,” Rachel says, conversationally. “It’s your birthday, so you get to pick... What first?”

Rachel straightens and she has handcuffs dangling from one hand, the metal glinting in the light of the room. Her other hand is gripping the straps of a deep purple strap-on.

Santana visibly swallows and Rachel smirks.

“Both?” Santana says hopefully.

Rachel chuckles, placing both items on the bedspread and crawling up the bed, as she does, Santana automatically falls back until Rachel’s hovering over her. She presses hot kisses against Santana’s jaw, loving the way Santana’s head tilts back, like she’s offering herself to Rachel, then speaks low in her ear. “You want me to tie you down and fuck you, baby?”

Santana whimpers, eyes fluttering shut. “Please.”

Rachel had plans to draw things out as long as she could, but god, she doesn’t have that much willpower, and the tone of Santana’s voice, the way, when her eyes open again, her pupils are completely blown, sends Rachel’s head spinning.

She rests her weight on one hand, the other coming over to push impatiently at Santana’s top. “Off,” she says, and Santana reaches down to help her lift it over her head. As soon as it’s removed and discarded on the floor, Rachel leans in to press her lips against Santana’s, groaning as their tongues meet in a hot, messy kiss. She reaches blindly behind her, smiling into the kiss when her hand hits the cold metal of the handcuffs.

“Hands above your head, baby,” she murmurs against Santana’s lips.

Santana half laughs, half groans. “Fuck, why does that sound so hot?”

“Because,” Rachel says, eyes glinting wickedly as she threads the cuffs through the bed frame and reaches out to fasten one wrist, then the other. “It means you’re now completely at my mercy.”

She sits back on calves to and takes a breath, holding it as her eyes move across Santana’s restrained form. Santana’s wiggling slightly, testing the cuffs and Rachel enjoys the slight look of frustration when she realises they aren’t moving. She knows it’s not that Santana really wants to escape, but the full reality of not being able to touch whenever she wants to must be setting in.

“You’re mine, baby,” she says.

Santana’s eyes connect with Rachel’s and soften momentarily. “Always,” she says and Rachel’s insides melt just a little until Santana huffs a breath in and continues. “Now hurry up and fuck me, already.”

Rachel holds in the laugh that bubbles up at Santana’s impatience then tuts and shakes her head.”You don’t get to make the decisions right now,” she says, then at Santana’s perturbed expression, does let out a small giggle. The giggle quickly morphs into a squeak of surprise, however, when she feels legs wrap around her waist and she’s suddenly falling forward, her body crashing into Santana’s.

She manages to catch most of her weight on her arms, and is about to turn an indignant glare on Santana when she shifts slightly and Santana’s thigh presses up against her in just the right way that in the end, all she can do is groan. And fuck, she’s not supposed to be losing control this early, but her arousal’s been growing since the moment she woke up and she can’t help but grind down as Santana tenses against her and presses up, because it feels so good that she doesn’t want to stop any time soon.

She gasps and buries her face in Santana’s neck, nipping at the skin then soothing over the sting with her tongue. Santana whines low and desperate against her ear and the sound brings Rachel back to herself a little, so she nips one last time before pulling back and stopping the writhe of Santana’s lower half with trembling fingers pressed against her hips.

“Don’t move,” Rachel says, settling back, a little away from Santana and reaching down to strip herself of her t-shirt. She notices Santana’s eyes hungrily following the path of the shirt up her body so slows down her movements, pulling it teasingly over her head.

“Like what you see, baby?” She asks and Santana nods her head, “Too bad you can’t touch, huh?”

Letting a hand trail slowly over her stomach and upwards, Rachel watches as Santana licks slowly at her lips, her arms tugging uselessly against the cuffs. She tugs at her own nipple and gasps as the sensation travels through her body, pooling between her thighs.

Santana arches her body against the bed and actually sobs when Rachel gives her other nipple the same treatment, and the look of pure need in Santana’s eyes is what finally breaks Rachel. She’s dragged this out long enough, and now she just wants to feel Santana against her, skin on skin.

She quickly rids herself of her own sleep shorts before reaching out for Santana’s. Santana pushes up from the bed, helping Rachel to slide them off as best she can. Rachel follows them down Santana’s legs, pressing frantic kisses against the skin as she goes.

Once they’re off, Rachel reaches for the strap-on, feeling Santana’s gaze on her the entire time she’s fumbling with the straps. She’d tried it out when she’s first bought it, of course, because she’s nothing if not prepared, but there’s definitely an added challenge to putting it on when she’s distracted by her girlfriend’s eyes and the slight moans of approval she’s letting out every few seconds.

But then the final strap is pulled secure and she’s inching forward between Santana’s legs, the anticipation of being inside of her girlfriend coiling tight in her stomach. Rachel brushes her fingers against the inside of Santana’s thigh, urging them wider, and Santana complies, until Rachel can guide the tip of the strap-on to press against Santana’s entrance.

She pushes inside, just the barest hint, and Santana whimpers, pushing up off the bed with her back and pulling hard against her restraints.

“Fuck, Rach,” Santana gasps, “Don’t—” But then the rest of what she was going to say ends in a strangled sob as Rachel rolls her hips forward and buries the entire length inside Santana with one smooth stroke.

She stills for a second, because it’s been a long time since Santana’s taken anything but her fingers, but then at the, “Fucking _god_ ,” Santana chokes out, followed by a desperate demand to _move_ , Rachel does. Bodies flush against each other, sweat-slicked skin sliding hotly together, Rachel thrusts her hips, drawing the strap-on out and sliding inside again and again.

She fumbles the rhythm a few times, because she’s not done this before, but then finds the angle and speed that has Santana gasping and writhing beneath her, hips rising to meet each of her thrusts in a desperate attempt to get Rachel deeper.

Rachel dips her head, bruising the skin of Santana’s chest with lips and teeth and Santana cries out her approval.

Rachel glances up to see her head tipped back, eyes wide and fingers clutching uselessly at the air. She feels Santana’s heels digging rhythmically into the backs of her thighs and then they shift and wrap around her waist, and on the next thrust of her hips, Rachel sinks that much deeper. Santana’s body surges under her as she almost screams out her pleasure and Rachel redoubles her efforts, moving harder, faster.

Each time she pushes forward, the base of the strap-on presses against her clit, and when she pulls back, the insert inside her moves in the most incredible way. It’s driving her crazy and she moans long and low.

“Santana,” she gasps. “Oh god.”

She can feel her orgasm building and it shocks her because she didn’t think she’d be able to come from this, but the way Santana’s responding to her, the look on her face, the keening sounds of approval she’s releasing every time Rachel thrusts inside, it’s all too much.

“Fuck, baby,” Santana whimpers, and Rachel knows Santana knows she’s close. “Just a little more.”

Rachel tries to hold back on her impending orgasm, but her movements are turning frantic, urgent. She presses hot kisses over Santana’s chest and up, until she can suck on her neck, nip at the spot that never fails to drive Santana crazy.

She scrapes her teeth over the skin and Santana jerks under her. Rachel’s hips work short, hard strokes until Santana’s leg draws tighter around her waist, holding her deep inside as she cries out one final time. As Santana’s orgasm fires through her, Rachel lets go, grinding herself against the base of the strap-on and shuddering through her release.

Dropping her damp forehead to Santana’s shoulder, Rachel takes a few deep breaths until her body’s stopped trembling and her legs feel like they can move again.

She pulls out slowly, noting the groan from Santana as she does, and removes the toy, placing it on the floor by the bed for cleaning later, then grabs the key for the handcuffs from the bedside table and releases Santana’s hands.

“Fuck, Rach,” Santana says as she shakes out her arms, massaging her wrists which are slightly reddened, but otherwise okay.

Rachel lets out a puff of air, then says, “Yeah, I think we’ll be doing that again.”

“God, yes,” Santana replies with a laugh that’s still a little breathless. “But maybe not for a while, my shoulders are gonna be sore for days.”

Rachel comes around to sit behind Santana, running her fingers gently over the affected area. “Poor baby,” she murmurs against Santana’s ear. “Why don’t we go take a shower and clean up a little, and then I’m fairly sure there’s a bottle of massage oil somewhere in that box. And if I do say so myself, I’m excellent with my hands.”

Santana just raises her eyebrows, and Rachel laughs, getting up from the bed and reaching for Santana to lead her into the bathroom. They have enough hot water to last for a thirty minute shower, and Rachel intends to make good use of every second.


End file.
